


Refrain

by SLynn



Series: Recruitment [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, I HATE YOUR HAPPINESS, I don't really, blackglass thinks I do, emotionally drained, everything is tears, not done yet, still breaking it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLynn/pseuds/SLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are no easy answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i. Truthfulness

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to wait until I was a little farther along with the next fic, but since Marvel Heroes isn't up yet (I'm SLynn if you play!) and I've finished I thought I might as well start. This is six parts and I plan to post once a day. Enjoy!

Steve didn't sleep much anymore. Seventy years under will do that to a person, even if they haven't been genetically altered. Some nights he tried to get more than just the few hours his body needed, but it wasn't a regular thing. Besides, sleep had always felt like a waste of time.

The fortunate part was he now lived with a group of self-professed insomniacs so usually, if he wanted company, someone was available to chat.

The unfortunate part was tonight everyone was inexplicably sound asleep.

That almost never happened.

So, at just after midnight, and after seeing Tony's workshop shut down and Bruce's lab empty, that the range and gym were both dark, Steve decided to give it a try and go to sleep.

Ten minutes later, still wide awake, he'd popped some popcorn and turned on the classic movie channel, hoping to pass the time pleasantly and give his mind a break.

 _"Captain Rogers,"_ JARVIS said fifteen minutes in to the film, pulling up the lights in his room automatically and dimming the volume on the television set. _"I am sorry to disturb you but I am receiving some unsettling readings from Mr. Barton's room."_

"You know how Clint feels about you checking up on him," Steve said, almost admonishingly before realizing to whom he was speaking.

_"I understand the limitations set upon me," JARVIS returned, "but protocol dictates --"_

"Is this some kind of loophole Tony added?"

_"No, sir. This one was augmented by Mr. Barton."_

"Really?" Steve asked, confused. It wasn't that Clint didn't like JARVIS; like everyone, he found the AI incredibly useful. However, Steve couldn't think of a single instance where Clint had asked JARVIS to be in his personal quarters. The man liked his privacy.

_"One of the many duties I perform is to check the vital signs of the inhabitants within the Stark Tower Complex. Mr. Barton felt that my initial guidelines were too broad, but saw the usefulness of them, as it is the quickest way to discover persons in duress."_

"Duress?" Steve repeated, getting to his feet and starting to feel an odd sense of dread. Tony and Clint had very different definitions of what that word would mean, and JARVIS was always exacting in his phrases. If Clint changed the perimeters...

_"Captain Rogers, if we could defer this conversation for a later time, I really must insist that --"_

JARVIS stopped suddenly and the lights came on full. With them came an alarm and Steve had a sudden flashback to the lab incident.

 _"SHIELD medical has been alerted,"_ JARVIS said overhead. _"Vital signs have reached critical condition. Please proceed to Mr. Barton's room at once, Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark is being awakened. Dr. Banner is being awakened. Ms. Lewis is being awakened. Overriding personal preferences now and declaring a Stage One emergency."_

"Are Clint and Natasha inside?" Steve asked, already out his own door and running towards Clint's room. He shared a floor with the two of them. They each had their own room, lately they just hadn't been using both of them. 

_"No, sir. Agent Romanoff left over an hour ago."_

"Left?" Steve asked, confused. "Never mind that. Can you pop this lock?"

_"I have already tried and cannot, sir. It appears to be stuck."_

"Son of bitch," Steve muttered, bending over and looking for himself. Sure enough, the inside of the lock looked to be almost melted. Twisting the handle as hard as he could, Steve put his full weight against the door. "Tasha was the last one out this door?" he asked for clarification.

_"Yes, sir."_

It gave way almost at once.

"Clint?" Steve yelled out as he stepped over the threshold.

The room was full dark and he hesitated in the doorway. As soon as he moved inside JARVIS brought up the lights and Steve saw that the coffee table had been overturned and that there was blood. There was a lot of blood.

"That's a hell of a wake-up call," Darcy said breathlessly from the doorway. "What's going on? JARVIS bugging or something?"

"No," Steve said quietly, motioning for her to stay back.

 _"I have an incoming call from Agent Hill,"_ JARVIS announced.

"Put her on hold," Steve said, scanning the room quickly before turning to Darcy. "Get up to the roof. Medical should be landing shortly. Bring them straight here and don't answer anything they ask unless it's Agent Hill or Director Fury doing the asking."

"Okay," she said with a nervous nod, hesitating only a moment before racing back out of the room.

"Connect the call," Steve told JARVIS as he moved to the kitchen and out again, it being obviously empty.

"Captain Rogers, I'm en route with medical," Maria asked over the open line. "Tell me this is a drill."

"No can do, Agent Hill," he answered, aware that they were probably being listened in on at her end. 

"What's the situation?" she asked.

"I'm not positive yet," he answered, as he slowly pushed open the bedroom door and saw that there was additional blood on the rug leading off towards the bathroom. Maria remained quiet on the line, waiting for the more information to come. Steve took three quick steps into the bathroom and finally found him. "Barton's hurt. He's unconscious and bleeding."

"And?"

"Hurry," Steve urged, already trying to determine the extent of the damage.

"ETA is five minutes."

"You're escort is on the roof waiting," Steve confirmed. "Disconnect the line, JARVIS."

_"I already have, sir."_

"Where are Tony and Bruce?" he snapped, picking up the towel that Clint must have been using to staunch the bleeding before passing out. It looked like he'd been at least semi-conscious at one point and had crawled in from the living room. He must not have been in his right mind; Clint should have just called for help. Personal preferences or not, JARVIS would have likely responded if he had.

_"Mr. Stark is with Ms. Lewis. Dr. Banner is stepping off the elevator as we speak."_

"Bruce!" Steve yelled, needing help immediately and hearing the sound of the other man running to meet his cry.

"What happened?" Bruce asked as soon as he was in the room.

"We'll worry about that later," Steve decided. "How bad do you think this is?"

Bruce nodded and carefully moved the towel out of the way so he could get a better look. It appeared as if Clint had been stabbed three or four times in the stomach. The wounds were bleeding freely, but didn't seem to be very deep. What was more worrying was the low babble that was constantly flowing from the man's mouth. He was obviously in pain, and at least partially under, but a quick check of his eyes revealed that he'd also been drugged.

"He may need a surgeon," Bruce said. "As long as nothing vital was nicked, he'll make it. But we need to hurry. Keep applying pressure."

"Got it," Steve said, surprised when Bruce got back to his feet and stepped away. "Where are you going?"

"I need a second," Bruce answered, turning his back on the scene and going so far as to shut his eyes, but it was still fresh inside his head.

"Hey," they both heard Tony shout from the front room. "Did someone slip in the shower or something? Darcy said --"

"We're in here," Steve answered, seeing that Bruce wasn't able. "SHIELD is on their way. You need to canvas the room, quickly, before they get here. We need to be on top of this thing."

"What in the hell?" Tony asked from the doorway, looking struck by the sight.

"No time," Steve urged. "Tony, you and Bruce get out there and look for a knife or something. Anything. I've got Clint."

Tony nodded and understood, at least in part. Something bad had gone down and if they didn't get the jump on the investigation, SHIELD would. And they probably wouldn't put Hill or Fury in charge.

"Come on," Tony said, pulling Bruce by the elbow into the living room. "JARVIS, encrypt all the video feeds from tonight and no one accesses them without my direct say-so."

_"At once, sir."_

"Okay," Tony said, taking a deep breath as he looked over the area. "Whatever this was, it started on the couch."

"Natasha did this," Bruce said, his voice flat.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Tony returned, shaking off the thought. "Let's especially not do that when SHIELD gets here."

"She told us this could happen, Tony. That she was volatile. Dangerous. Her head was full of potential traps and triggers and we ignored that," he said, growing more worked up as he spoke.

"Do you need to leave?" asked with complete sincerity.

"I do," Bruce said, nodding his head and unable to look at the blood in the room for even a moment longer.

"Head up and give Darcy a hand."

Bruce turned and left, leaving Tony alone in the room to make sense of this mess. It did look like whatever had happened had begun on the couch. The largest blood stain was there. Not to mention the tipped over coffee table and broken wine glasses on the floor. The blanket seemed out of place, but it also had blood on it. Knowing time was short, Tony checked the kitchen. In it was an opened bottle of wine, a cell phone with a cracked screen, and a knife.

Probably not just any knife, probably the knife.

She'd washed it.

Tony shook that thought from his head, knowing that the likelihood of it being true was still high, but he couldn't deal with it just yet.

First Barton, then Romanoff; that had to be the order of his thought process to begin.

"Coming through," Maria shouted in the hallway, ushering in two medics and a gurney.

"Bathroom," Tony said, gesturing to the other side of the room.

Maria let the medics go without her and turned a questioning gaze to Tony.

"Was this an accident?" she asked softly, clearly hoping that was the case.

"No."

Her eyes landed first on the knife and then the cell phone.

"Pocket that," she said indicating the phone, and he didn't need to be told twice. "Morse is in the hall with Banner."

"Well, she'll probably want to ride back with Barton and Lewis," he returned hopefully.

"Probably," Maria agreed.

Together they went back in to the living room as the medics were wheeling Clint out, Steve just behind them looking grim. His hands were still spotted with blood, despite the continuous wiping he was doing with the towel he'd used on Clint.

"We're going to need to process this room," Agent Morse said as she entered. "If you don't mind," she finished, waving the three of them out of the room.

"Process?" Steve asked, letting Tony and Maria go ahead of him.

"Standard procedure," she answered. "I'm sure you understand, Mr. Stark."

"I would, except Clint isn't with SHIELD any longer, and I still own this building so..."

"But Agent Romanoff is with SHIELD," she said, refusing to budge an inch.

"She's not here," Tony countered.

"Oh, she's not? Maybe we should just call the police then."

"No one's calling anyone," Director Fury said as he got off the elevator. "This will be handled by SHIELD and the Avengers. Anything you find, Agent Morse, I expect you to share."

"And anything they find?" she asked.

"I'm sure, in the spirit of cooperation, Mr. Stark will gladly pass along any information he deems vital. Won't you, Mr. Stark?"

"Scout's honor," he returned, throwing up the salute and everything.

"Satisfied, Agent Morse?" Fury said briskly without waiting for an answer. "Now, finish up here and then report back to the Helicarrier. Agent Hill, you're with me. Gentlemen," he continued, motioning for Tony and Steve to accompany them.

They four rode up in the elevator in silence.

"Ms. Lewis is escorting Mr. Barton back to the Helicarrier," Fury said as soon as the doors opened, but not on the penthouse floor. They were headed for the conference room. "I asked Dr. Banner to wait here for us. We need to talk."

Bruce was already sitting at the table when they walked in and didn't bother to get to his feet. Both Tony and Steve could see he was still shaken by these events, but holding himself together.

"Report," Fury demanded as soon as the door shut.

Steve explained all of what he knew and Tony added in the information he had, but even combined it wasn't much.

Even after Tony had JARVIS queue up the video feeds from outside Clint's room and they watched Natasha leave, go into her own room for a few minutes, return to tamper with the lock on Clint's door, and then calmly exit the Tower as if she was headed out to lunch, they still didn't know.

And they wouldn't until Clint woke up because there were no cameras inside of personal quarters.

"There's only one real possibility here," Steve said reluctantly and Fury nodded in agreement.

"What possibility is that?" Maria asked, clearly confused.

When everyone avoided her gaze, Maria knew she was out of the loop on something. She just couldn't imagine what it could be that would make this situation make sense. Barton wasn't her cup of tea, but Romanoff seemed to like him well enough. She couldn't picture a situation where either would willfully hurt the other.

"Agent Romanoff may or may not be imbedded with certain triggers," Director Fury said, carefully picking his words.

"Triggers?" Maria asked. "What kind of triggers are we talking about, sir? Like, she's experiencing flashbacks?"

"More like brainwashing," Bruce provided, rubbing his eyes and sighing.

"Brainwashing?" she practically scoffed.

"Romanoff being brainwashed is too farfetched?" Tony asked, fiddling with the phone he'd picked up in Barton's room as he spoke. "Hell, Barton and Selvig got their brains hijacked during an intergalactic alien invasion."

"Yes, well, I don't see any aliens," Maria snit back at him. "You mentioned triggers, sir?" she said, addressing Fury again. "So she was programmed with some kind of defensive kill switch? I'm not sure I understand."

"We don't know what she was programmed with, Agent Hill," he answered. "But we need to find out. Fast. Agent Morse is already assuming Agent Romanoff has gone rogue and has orders to put her down. We need to find her first and set her right again. Now, I'm asking all of you, can that be done?"

"Yes," Steve said at once and Fury took him at his word, exiting the room and leaving them to it.

"Can we do this?" Bruce asked, looking skeptically around at the others.

"First things first," Steve began. "Maria, I assume SHIELD can start searching for Natasha the way they did for Clint, right? Using cameras and..."

"Wireless cameras, smart phones, security feeds; everything digital and electronic in the information age," she provided. "Yes, but --"

"But that not only tells us but them," Tony provided and Maria shifted, uncomfortably aware that she was still part of 'them'.

"Clint was smart enough to keep his head down and out of sight," Bruce added. "Natasha will do the same."

"So we have to find out where she's going," Steve sighed. "What about your cards, Tony?"

"Huh?" he said, looking up from the phone in his hand. "Oh, yeah. Already checked. She left it behind."

"Why did this happen now," Bruce asked no one in particular. "What set her off?"

"I may know both very soon," Tony said slowly, still working on the phone in his hand before ultimately letting out a disgruntled curse. "Or not. Damn, she really did a number on this thing."

"Something's there that she didn't want seen," Steve figured. "Is it her phone or his?"

"His," Tony answered.

"Can you fix it?" Maria asked.

"It'll take some time. Probably more time than we have," Tony admitted. "She's erased everything and the SIM card is cracked. I guess we should be thankful she didn't dump it down the disposal."

"Or picked up a bigger knife," Bruce muttered.

"She cleaned the knife," Tony mused, setting down the phone and getting that look about him. "And the blanket - she covered him up."

"Like, remorse?" Maria suggested tentatively. She still wasn't sure exactly what caused this mess, but it was obvious no one thought Natasha was in her right mind.

"She used a paring knife," Tony nodded. "If she wanted him dead she could have used something bigger. Could have slit his throat."

"Tony, if we didn't find him when we did, he would have bled out," Bruce argued, really struggling with this. The other guy was really struggling with this. "The cuts were shallow, all things considered, but where he was stabbed... It's just a slower death. That's all."

"Let's talk motive," Maria said, shaking her head, "because I do not understand at all."

"It's personal," Bruce said, looking and feeling extremely anxious. This was the last conversation he wanted to have, but Maria looked determined.

"Romanoff having some kind of mental kill switch is personal? Because it sounds very much like something I should have known about."

"Hey, if SHIELD doesn't want to share with you, that's not our fault," Tony returned.

"No, I guess it's not," Maria answered, her eyes on Steve.

"It was personal," Steve said in his own defense. "Natasha told us in confidence."

"Well, if that's the case," she fired back at him sarcastically.

"Are you actually lecturing us about keeping secrets?" Tony asked incredulously.

"I thought we were past that point, but I guess it's just a one-way street after all."

"No, Maria," Steve insisted. "That's not true."

"I have been open and honest with you and have shared things with you, for this team, that could cost me everything. We agreed to work together."

"I didn't agree," Tony interjected.

"We are working together," Steve said, ignoring Tony. "I honestly didn't think to tell you because it was private. I'm still not sure how much..."

"There is a big difference between personal issues like where Romanoff sleeps at night and personal issues like Romanoff might snap and stab her lover," Maria said, still very angry at the deception. "I don't expect to be told everything. Just the important things. And this was one of them."

"No one thought this would happen, Maria," Bruce said, trying to put himself right with the situation, and her as well.

"But you at least knew it could happen. I was left in the dark."

"How does that feel?" Tony asked.

"Fuck you, Stark," she yelled, for the first time momentarily losing her composure. "How much penance do I have to pay? What exactly did it cost Barton to get in your good graces?"

"We're..." Bruce said, getting to his feet and crossing the room to relieve his agitation. "This is getting us nowhere."

"You're right," Tony sighed. "Long story short, Hill, Natasha has some left over spy-codes in her head from her pre-SHIELD days. Satisfied?"

Maria didn't say anything. Her arms were folded across her chest and her eyes were set on the floor.

"Maria?" Steve said quietly.

"Fine," she said with a nod, still avoiding looking directly at any of them.

"Can we talk about this?" Steve asked her.

"Later," Tony insisted. "Kiss and make-up later. Right now, Bruce is right. We're getting nowhere. I'll start checking other databases. Try and get the jump on SHIELD techs with some facial recognition programs. Still got this phone, but don't expect miracles."

"I'll check in with Morse," Maria said, heading for the door. "When SHIELD is done processing the room we can all head back to the Helicarrier. If we can't track her, we need to be ready to respond when they do."

"Okay," Tony said with a brisk nod, and Maria left without saying any more.

"Tony," Steve said as soon as she was gone, "that was --"

"I'm sorry, okay," he shrugged, knowing where this lecture was going. "I don't like her."

"I don't think you actually know her," Steve argued. "And it doesn't matter if you like her or not. We are working together. Maria has a job and a purpose here. If this is going to work we need someone on the inside."

"Director Fury --"

"Lies to us," Steve interrupted. "All the time. It's his job. Maria is more forthcoming. Her position gives her more leeway to tell us the things Fury can't."

"When it suits her."

"We all lie, Tony," Bruce said, coming to Steve's aid. He understood Tony's reservations about bringing in Maria, but he also understood the importance behind it. "I do. You do. As long as we're honest about the big picture..."

"Not good enough," Tony objected.

"Not your call," Steve said evenly.

"And it's yours?"

"I can decide for myself who to trust," Steve answered on his way out the door, too angry to stay.


	2. ii.  Persistence

Darcy had never felt more like an adult in her life. The worse kind of adult. An old, tired, weary adult with way too much responsibility.

She'd gone with Clint back to the medical center onboard the Helicarrier and followed his progress into every room she was technically allowed into and some she was sure she wasn't. No one stopped her. A few times they'd questioned her presence, but Darcy knew how to give better than she got, and after rattling off things like 'official Avenger liaison' and 'here at the express order of Director Fury' they'd backed off.

The one place she wasn't allowed was the operating room, which is where Clint eventually landed.

Darcy found the observation deck instead.

For over an hour she sat answering text after text from Tony and Bruce and Steve, from Pepper and Jane and some guy she's sure she didn't know named Jim. Agent Hill even texted a few times for an update; Agent Hill who was always Agent Hill and never Maria in Darcy's mind. The woman was like a robot. A scary robot. It was kind of the same with Dr. Selvig, never Erik, but that was out of respect, not fear. He had joined her for a fifteen minute stretch to see how she was holding up. She'd said she was swell; reality was, not so much.

It was a weird situation.

Darcy had piece-milled enough of the story together to know that Natasha had freaked out, for whatever reason, and stabbed Clint. That's what was being said in whispers through the halls. That and things like it was a retaliatory attack for the damage he'd caused on the Helicarrier, which was ridiculous. Or that she'd never really defected to SHIELD and this was all part of some really, really deep cover master plan, which was more ridiculous.

Knowing the two of them, and after a month Darcy thought she knew Clint and Natasha about as well as she was going to know them, this could be something as simple as foreplay gone wrong.

Sighing and pulling her arms around her body, she mentally chided herself.

This wasn't a joke. This was something very serious and very wrong and... she couldn't help that her brain naturally wanted to make light of things that made her feel bad.

This made her feel very, very bad.

"They're finishing up soon."

Darcy looked up at the sound of the voice and recognized the woman who had been at the Tower when everything had gone wrong; Agent Morse.

"Have they said how he's doing?" Darcy asked, glancing quickly down into the room and back up again. She wanted to be there, but she didn't actually want to watch what was happening.

"Fine," Morse answered. "He's doing fine. All his stats are normal. Nothing major was hit. He got lucky."

Darcy barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes and settled on looking away instead. Lucky wasn't a word she'd associate with Clint.

"Since we've got a moment," Morse said, taking a seat beside hers, "I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"About what?" Darcy asked, pulling her feet up into the chair with her in an unconsciously defensive posture.

"Well, to start with, you can tell me what the nature of Agent Romanoff's relationship was with Mr. Barton."

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Agent Morse repeated back at her skeptically.

"It's not like I keep tabs on everyone," Darcy responded. "I'm just the hired help."

"I see," Morse said, smiling tightly. "And how much are you being paid, Ms. Lewis?"

"That's between me and the IRS."

"So, enough? Enough to keep their secrets."

"I do fine, thanks," Darcy answered in an irritated and clipped tone.

"You could do better."

"Are you..." Darcy started to ask, but didn't get the chance to finish. She was saved by the door opening and Tony walking in.

"So this is where you got to," Tony said brightly, looking at Darcy and then Morse with amusement. "How are things, Ms. Lewis? Agent Morse?"

"Agent Morse was just giving me an update on Mr. Barton's status," Darcy answered, getting to her feet and moving to stand alongside Tony and wishing she was dressed more appropriately. As it was she was still in her SpongeBob pajama bottoms and a faded t-shirt. "He should be out soon. You did get my last text, didn't you?"

"Haven't had time to check," Tony answered, knowing full well that Darcy hadn't sent one. And she didn't call any of them mister. Morse had clearly been harassing her in some fashion and that was going to end. "Pepper is in the air and on her way back. Jane couldn't make it, still got science stuff to attend to, but Rhodey's coming along so you should have some company soon. You must be tired. Why don't you run down the cafeteria, get a bite to eat. Take Bruce with you. He's just down the hall. Okay?"

"Thanks," Darcy said, taking off before the word was even completely out of her mouth.

"Need something?" he said, turning back to Agent Morse as soon as Darcy was gone.

"Let's cut the crap, Stark," she said, hands on hips and looking ready to explode. "I need answers. Someone had better tell me what was going on in that Tower. Now."

"I think you've got a fairly good grasp on the situation. You don't need us."

"That's how you want to play?" she asked. "Fine. We'll play it that way. Barton is going to be waking up soon. I'll ask him."

"Except he's no longer with SHIELD and doesn't have to tell you anything."

"Then I'll detain him. Quarantine him. He's not with SHIELD, but this is a SHIELD facility. I'll restrict access and I will keep him here until he tells me the truth."

"Like in LA?" Tony asked, and Morse actually flinched. She either wasn't as good as she thought she was, or she had a lot more scruples than Tony was giving her credit for.

"That --" she started to say, after a moment spent regaining her composure, but stopped. Her communicator beeped and she checked the screen immediately. Without another word to Tony, Morse left.

"Wait," Tony said, falling in step behind her. "What was that?"

"SHIELD business," she said sternly as she read her message from the device.

Tony followed her down the hall. When they passed Bruce and Darcy, he motioned for them to come along, still in Agent Morse's wake. At the next intersection, Agent Hill caught up to them.

"Going somewhere?" she asked Agent Morse, ignoring the rest of them and falling into step beside the other woman, not behind.

"You know where I'm going," Morse said tersely.

"I don't know where we're going," Tony provided.

"I do know," Maria continued, "but no thanks to you. Director Fury forwarded me the message. Want to explain why I wasn't told?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Morse said as she pushed open the door to a small conference room that was serving as a makeshift situation room, complete with agents running information at workstations and comm-links and, however inexplicably, Steve. "Capitan Rogers," she said, somehow making it come out like a sigh. "I see you've heard," she continued, giving Maria a hard look.

"He's cleared," Maria said flatly. "So are the rest of them. And Director Fury said we were working this together."

"She's not cleared," Morse said, pointing to Darcy.

"Ms. Lewis was just leaving," Hill responded, motioning her towards the door.

"I'll go get that coffee then," Darcy shrugged and left.

"What's happened?" Tony asked.

"There was a security breach at a facility ninety miles north of here," Agent Morse reluctantly answered.

"A SHIELD facility? Do I dare ask what was being kept at this outpost?" Tony pressed. "Or who could have done such a thing?"

"You know who, Mr. Stark," Morse snapped, tapping the nearest junior agent on the shoulder to get him to queue up the feed. "She strolled in using her current credentials and commandeered a jet in under ten minutes."

"Any fatalities?" Steve asked, watching the video and feeling somewhat numb. Natasha moved across the screen like a dancer; all lethal grace. Those guys didn't stand a chance.

"None," Morse answered.

"So, where is she going in a jet?" Bruce asked.

"Let's get up there and find out," Tony suggested.

They were onboard and ready to go within ten minutes. Agent Hill wasn't qualified to fly, which left Agent Morse to pilot the team. Tony had to talk Bruce into going, but after that the only hold-up was for everyone to get outfitted for a fight.

No one wanted it to come to that, but it was better to be prepared.

The facility was on high alert when they landed and the one doctor assigned was already in action. It was a small base, more of an outpost like Tony had assumed. It housed only a dozen agents, most of them young recruits.

The senior agent assigned met them on the tarmac and briefed them on the way.

Just like they'd seen on the video, Natasha had been extremely efficient. 

"We'll take it from here," Maria said once he was finished. He gave her a quick nod, but waited until Agent Morse gestured him away before actually leaving; something none of them missed.

"She could be anywhere," Tony said. "These jets of yours, they're fast and their efficient and she's got at least an hour on us. Maybe more."

"Any way to track them?" Steve asked.

"Actually," Morse answered, stepping over to the monitor and flipping a few switches, "yes, just not in the air. When she lands we'll have her, but... from the data here, she headed north."

"Initially," said Bruce.

"She has a safe house," Tony suddenly blurted out.

"I don't suppose she told you where?" Morse asked, still fiddling with the controls.

"No," Tony shrugged. "It was bequeathed to her."

"By Agent Coulson?" Maria asked, suddenly alert.

"Yeah, Phil left her and Barton each a house," Tony answered, a little surprised she knew that information.

"I know," Maria said, nodding her head and pulling up a map on the monitor. "I helped clear it; set it up. He asked me to go over the paperwork about a year ago, to make sure everything was in order."

"They didn't think anyone else knew," Tony said.

"Well, I don't know where Barton's is," Maria admitted, stopping for a moment and shutting her eyes to help her recall. "Just Romanoff's. She's not a naturalized citizen so it took a little extra paperwork."

Tony dropped his own eyes for a moment while Maria continued to work, before turning to see both Bruce and Steve looking at him. They didn't have to say it, he understood. Phil had known what Natasha had been capable of, as sure as Clint had, and he'd quite possibly told Maria this information to ensure someone else had it; just in case.

It probably shouldn't have, but knowing Phil had trusted Maria that much did go a long way with Tony.

"Do you have it?" Morse asked impatiently.

"Give me a second," Maria muttered. "It was near the border. Almost in Canada something... it was French sounding. In Maine. Calais," she said, spotting it on the map. "It was just outside of Calais, Maine. If we head up there, by the time we land her jet should be on the ground, leading us right to her."

"Let's go," Steve said and in another ten minutes they were back in the air.

Halfway through the trip SHIELD notified them that Natasha's jet had landed and issued them exact coordinates, more or less where Maria said she could be. The problem turned out that she took off again fifteen minutes later and they'd lost her before they'd really found her.

They continued on regardless.

With an exact location, the house, wasn't hard to find. The front door had been left open and the place looked ransacked. 

Natasha had been here alright and she'd been looking for something.

It wasn't a big place, but to save time, they all split up to search for clues.

Of course, Tony found the hidden basement with it's mostly looted arsenal.

"She could fend off a small army with this," Agent Morse said with a low whistle, having followed Tony down the steps unaware.

"She could practically do that unarmed," Tony admitted. "But it certainly looks like she was ready for a fight. Or she's getting ready for one."

"And if it comes to that?" she asked.

"It won't."

"But if it does," she pressed.

"What are you getting at, Agent?" 

"Are you prepared to do what's needed, Mr. Stark? Can you and your team get this job done if there's no other choice but to take Agent Romanoff out?"

"It won't come to that."

"You can't be certain."

"I can," Tony said firmly. "And I know --"

"Do you want to know what I know?" she interrupted. "I know that you shouldn't be here. None of you. It's not personal, you're just too close."

"Fine, say that's true. Say we're all too invested in the situation to make a good call."

"Not a good one, the right one."

"The right call," Tony repeated. "Whatever. What about your state of mind? You are so convinced..."

"I'm not convinced of anything."

"... of her guilt, are you going to be fair? Are you going to be impartial, Agent Morse?"

"Yes. I am. I am the only one here who is impartial."

"You're the only one here who doesn't belong," Tony snapped.

"I know what you've heard about me. I know you don't trust me."

"You pretended to be my employee for months, spying on my company. You had Barton snatched up at my home to be interrogated and imprisoned. You stalked my home, my girlfriend, my business. It has nothing to do with what I've heard about you. It's what I know.

Morse sighed and looked momentarily defeated, but it didn't last.

"We've all spied on you, Mr. Stark. Long before you were Iron Man, SHIELD has been watching you and Stark Industries," she said with icy calmness. "I've done it. Agent Romanoff. Barton spied on you. There are others, too. It's what SHIELD does and I know that makes you uncomfortable."

"Shouldn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed. "But I did not order Barton's interrogation. I resigned my post in protest. I filed a complaint. I did everything in my power... It wasn't right. Agent Campbell was just... overzealous."

"You could have let him go. Stopped... whatever the hell it was that happened," he shrugged, because Clint still wouldn't tell anyone exactly what had happened, so it must have been extreme.

"If I could have --"

"But you didn't," he finished, stepping around her and heading upstairs.

Bruce was poking around the kitchen, having given Tony a disappointed shrug when he checked in on him. Maria had found a laptop but it, like the phone, had been completely trashed and was unusable. Finally Tony came across Steve, who was in the bigger of the two bedrooms, sitting on the bed and cradling something in his hands.

"Recognize this?" he asked, holding the broken music box out for Tony to see.

"From the bunker," Tony said with a nod, taking it from him and giving it a once over. "I didn't know she'd taken it with her."

"I did," Steve sighed, getting to his feet.

"I can fix this," Tony replied, turning it over in his hands appraisingly. "Easy."

"You say that about everything."

Tony met his eyes and tried to make like it was no big deal. To pretend it was true, but they both knew it wasn't.

Some things were unfixable.


	3. iii. Integrity

With a throbbing head and a groan on his lips Clint opened his eyes.

The room he was in was dimly lit. He could feel the needle in his arm, where the IV was hooked into his blood stream. He ached. Every part of him ached. There were voices, muffled voices, but no one was talking to him.

Not yet.

Clint couldn't remember how he'd ended up in medical and that was worrisome.

He'd long since learned to look before he leaped, so that was what Clint did next. Opening his eyes wider, or as wide as he could, he waited for the fog to clear and scanned the room.

Pepper was there, standing on the other side of the door and talking with a nurse, visible through the glass. It was a nurse Clint knew even, so they must be on the Helicarrier. Jim Rhodes was with them and vaguely Clint recalled that neither of them should be; they were both supposed to be in LA.

"Hey," a voice to his immediate left said softly. "Sleeping Beauty is awake. And I didn't even get to kiss you yet."

"Darcy?" Clint asked, his voice a rough growl. He'd been so busy looking around the room he hadn't bothered to look to his side. That was sloppy.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like shit," he answered. "What happened?"

"I'm supposed to get the doctor when you wake up," she dodged. "She can explain it better than I could anyway."

"I'm not interested in what they did to piece me back together," Clint said, looking down and seeing his arm was back in the sling and bound to his chest, only higher than normal. He could feel another bandage around his stomach and guessed that he at least had a black eye, given how swollen his face felt. "How did this happen? Where's everyone else?"

"I'm not good enough?"

"No, you're plenty good at avoiding what I'm asking, Darcy," he answered, and he would have smiled at her persistence if he hadn't been so worried. The last time he woke up feeling this lost he'd spent time being a demi-god's puppet. Clint needed to hear the worst of whatever this was now, not later. "Tell me."

Darcy looked at the door, her face set in a frown, before muttering a curse under her breath and turning her eyes back to his. "Fine," she said. "I shouldn't, they told me to wait because no one wants to upset you, but..."

"You're already upsetting me."

"I know," she admitted, growing snippy. "But you have to stay calm. You've got stitches. Don't pop them."

"How, Darcy?"

"It was Natasha," she said evenly, pausing to let it sink in.

She didn't need to wait long. 

Clint registered the information almost immediately. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, standing up and looking alarmed as he shifted in the bed and began to rip at the bandage around his arm with his free hand.

"I'm getting out of here."

"Clint."

"Either help me or shut up," he snapped, having finished his first task before moving on to removing his IV.

"You can't go," she argued, astonished he was even trying. "Look at you. You can't even sit up, Clint."

"Where's Tony?" he asked, suddenly aware that none of the Avengers were present. No one from SHIELD was either; no one aside from medical. "Where's Steve? Did they go after her?"

"Of course."

"They can't --" he said, moving too quickly and causing a sharp jolt of pain to spread out from his abdomen that stopped him dead.

"Calm down," she urged, waving frantically at the group still unaware of what was happening on the other side of the door. "You're going to hurt yourself worse if you keep this up."

"They can't hurt her," he panted, having broken out in a cold sweat from either fear or pain, he wasn't sure. "She's not in her right mind."

"They know."

"They do," Clint agreed, "but does SHIELD?"

"What are you doing?" Pepper asked as she finally saw Darcy's frantic waving and entered the room. Her eyes wide in disbelief. "Clint, lay down. You can't leave."

"I need to make sure..."

"You weren't supposed to tell him," Pepper sighed, but not unkindly, looking at Darcy as she did so, as the two of them both pushed Clint gently back into place. It was a sign of how out of sorts he was that they could do that; Pepper knew Clint could have tossed them off of him like rag dolls if he had it in him to fight.

"I need to go with them. I won't over do it," Clint tried, knowing he wasn't going to be able to get out of the bed, let alone the medical ward, without a lot of assistance. "I swear it. I promise. I just need to be there."

"Barton," Nurse Jamison said admonishingly, "I've heard that one before and from you it means nothing. You once tried to walk out of here on a broken leg, swearing it would set on its own. Now, sit back and relax or I will have you restrained."

"There's no need for that," Rhodey objected. "Is there, Clint?"

"I want to talk to Tony," Clint argued, ignoring them both and focusing on Pepper. "Or Steve. Or Bruce. Anyone. I want to talk to someone who is..." he trailed off, having begun to run out of steam. His vision had begun to blur, but he fought it. He was a lot worse off than he'd imagined.

"They're on their way back," Pepper assured him. "Clint, I wouldn't lie to you. They are on their way here right now. You can talk to them all you need to, but you have to stay put."

"Did they find her?" he asked, growing desperate for information. "Do they know why? What set her off?"

Pepper was the only one who knew what he meant. She just really didn't have much to tell him yet, Tony didn't say much when they'd last spoken. 

"They were hoping you might know," she answered. "You were alone with her when it happened."

Clint finally relaxed into the bed and shut his eyes, trying to recall exactly what had went down, but he couldn't. His last memory felt fuzzy and out of reach. He remembered the television being on in the lounge. He remembered Steve talking about his arm and possibly some hand-to-hand training when he was whole again.

He'd been going to his room with Natasha but...

"I don't know," he admitted, frustrated with himself and his position. "I can't... I can't remember."

"You were drugged," Jamison told him. "You might just need some more time for that and the anesthesia to wear off. Give it awhile," she finished as she headed to the door. "And stay put. Dr. Tam will be in shortly."

"Pepper," Clint said as soon as the other woman was gone.

"It's going to be okay," she assured him, taking a seat opposite Darcy and squeezing his hand in hers.

"She doesn't know what she's doing. This isn't her."

Rhodey caught Darcy's eye and motioned for her to follow him out the door; the two of them leaving as discreetly as possible.

"You don't have to convince anyone."

"They have to bring her in," he said, shaking his head as he felt the full impact of the situation. "Whatever they have to do to bring her in... If they don't find her soon, she'll go underground and it could be years, Pepper. She could do that. She could disappear for years and... and..." he stammered, feeling his self control slip further away, "...I can't lose her, too. I can't. I don't know what I'd do."

Pepper squeezed his hand tighter than before and looked away. She knew how he felt and what he meant and silently resolved to talk with the doctor about getting him a sedative, if possible, when she arrived. Clint wouldn't like that, but it wasn't about what he'd like at the moment; it was about what he needed.

Fifteen minutes of drawn out silence ensued, followed by the rest of the team's arrival outside in the hallway.

"No more than three at a time," Dr. Tam's voice said from the doorway, letting only Tony and Steve in along with her, Pepper already occupying the third spot. "How are you doing, Clint?" she asked as soon as she'd shut the door. "Are you in much pain?"

"I'm fine," he answered, despite looking wrecked. "It's manageable."

"Manageable," she repeated back at him with a little laugh, pulling down the blanket to get a better look at his bandages. "Meaning it hurts like hell but there's no way you'd tell me that, right?" Everyone remained quiet as she spoke, gently prodding the wound and giving Clint a look when he flinched. "It's tender. You've been moving around too much already."

"Not much," he lied, and Pepper couldn't contain her eye roll. 

"Leave the IV in," Dr. Tam admonished, seeing the obvious signs that he'd messed with it. "I'm going to up your dosage of pain relievers, just slightly," she added before he could protest. "It won't put you under but it will take the edge off. In a few hours we'll start you on antibodies to make certain you don't get an infection. Take it easy and I'll be back after your visitors have left," she finished, leaving them in peace.

"Tell me," Clint said, turning to Steve and Tony as soon as the door had shut.

They filled him in the best they could, knowing it wouldn't make him feel any better and it wasn't really much. A lot less than they'd hoped for at this point.

"We have to know what happened, Clint," Steve said earnestly. "Anything she might have said that was out of place. Anything she might have done. It can all help."

"I don't remember."

"She smashed your phone," Tony prodded. "In the kitchen. She left it there. Erased all the data. Why would she do that?"

"I don't..." Clint started to say, but it came to him in a sudden rush. Not the actual event, but what had led up to it. What he'd been planning to tell her. "Son of a bitch," he shouted as it dawned on him, hard and fast. "I did this. I did... He set me up that... that..."

"Calm down," Pepper urged, seeing Clint go positively red-faced with anger.

"Clint," Steve said, sounding as desperate as Pepper did to get him to settle down.

"What was it? What did you do?" Tony asked, not because he actually thought Clint was guilty, but because the other man thought as much about himself.

"Barney," he spat out. "He's been sending me messages. Nothing threatening or... or anything like that," Clint continued, dropping his eyes and knowing he screwed up. He should have just told everyone right off the bat. But he hadn't. Habit had made him hold the information close until he felt comfortable enough to share it. "Just stupid shit. Complaints mainly. But... but he'd said SHIELD was behind his break-in and when I'd asked for proof... he sent a picture."

"Of what?" Steve asked.

"It doesn't matter," Clint said, shaking his head and refusing to speak of it. He felt like such an idiot now. He should have never even allowed himself to hope, not even a little bit. "They knew... His bosses, whoever it was that hired him to do that job, they had to have known about Natasha. They knew I'd show her first and... and it was a trigger. I did this. I... I did this to her."

"You didn't do this," Steve interjected. "They did, okay? They did this and we're going to fix it."

"Besides, I think you two will have plenty of blame to spread around," Tony said. "She did stab you after all."

"This isn't a joke," Clint snapped.

"I know," Tony came back, sincerely. "I do. I can't... I can't help myself sometimes. I'm sorry."

"Do you have any idea where she's gone?" Clint asked.

"She's got a jet," Steve answered. "Picked one up at a SHIELD base north of here. And she's been to her safe house."

"In Maine?"

"Yeah," Steve answered, not surprised Clint had known exactly where it was when they had not. "Did she keep anything there out of the ordinary? Anything that might point us in the right direction?"

"Is there any reason why she'd go there?" Tony asked with bewilderment. "Because... that doesn't make any sense to me. This programming pre-dates SHIELD. Why would she go somewhere Phil set up for her?"

Clint fixed Tony with a stare and thought about just telling him about the content of the picture; that a man who had looked like Phil, who looked a lot like Phil, had been in it and alive. But he couldn't. It was likely that the only reason she went there was for weapons and not some subconscious link she'd made between the man in the photo and the safe haven he'd provided. It had to be. Talking about Phil now would confuse the issue. They had to concentrate on Natasha.

When it became clear Clint wasn't or couldn't answer, Steve reluctantly said, "There was a music box, a broken one. Do you know anything about it?"

"No," he said softly, and it was clear that, even if he'd hesitated and held back on the previous question, Clint was being completely honest with them now.

Before Tony could follow that question up with one of his own, Agent Morse opened the door, looking venomous and carrying a tablet in her hand.

"You aren't supposed to be in here," she said under her breath.

"Are you talking to me?" Tony asked with feigned innocence.

"I'm going to need everyone out," Morse continued, glancing once around the room before fixing her gaze on Clint.

"For crying out loud," Maria snapped as she came into the room, angry but not surprised to find it full. "None of you could wait for the doctor to clear Barton first?"

"Out," Morse repeated.

"I'm going to go," Pepper said, knowing someone had to leave, although reluctant to be the one. "Take care," she said, kissing Clint on the temple. "I'll be back in a little while."

Tony gave her a smile on the way out the door and Pepper knew what it meant; don't go far.

"Do I have to have you removed?" Morse said, wheeling on Tony and Steve.

"They're not going anywhere," Maria said with a dismissive huff. "Trust me. Even if you did get them out of here, Barton's going to tell them everything you tell him after the fact. Just say what you've got to say. We've got work to do."

"Work that would be easier to do if everyone was cooperating," the other woman argued.

"We are cooperating," Steve said in a frustrated, low-tone.

Morse rolled her eyes, but knew she was outnumbered. Turning to Clint she held out the tablet for him to view. "You said you knew nothing about HYDRA. What's this about then?"

Clint scanned the screen and rubbed his eyes. She had all the information up and available from the trip to Belarus. The trip where Natasha had warned them that this could happen and why she wouldn't leave SHIELD. "That was a bust," he sighed. "There was nothing there."

"Agent Romanoff led this mission," she stated.

"She did," he agreed, "but like I said, there was nothing there. Her information was bad."

"What's this about?" Steve asked frustrated with a back-and-forth that was going nowhere.

"Last chance," Morse pushed, her eyes never leaving Clint.

"For what, exactly?" he asked. "You've got the report right there. Agent Romanoff thought there was HYDRA activity at that bunker but there wasn't. We all went to check it out and it was empty, wasn't it?" he finished, turning to Tony and Steve for back-up.

"He's right," Tony agreed. "There was nothing there."

"I co-signed the after report," Maria added, not exactly sure if what they were saying was true, but willing to give a little bit, if it could help and move things along.

"Were you there, Agent Hill?" Morse asked.

"No."

"What about you, Captain Rogers?" Morse asked, turning to Steve for verification.

"It was empty when we arrived," he answered truthfully and without hesitation.

"I didn't want to do this," Morse muttered before letting out a breath like a sigh. Walking to the door, she shut the blinds and flipped off the lights. In the next instant, she'd turned her tablet towards the wall so that she could project the screen for all of them to see. "I shouldn't do this but, since I won't get the truth from any of you, I'll give you some of my own."

"What are you babbling about?" Tony asked, appearing nonplussed as usual. "Nice tech you got there, by the way. Still lifting my patents?"

"Not my department," Morse answered as she logged into a secure link and brought up a map followed by a number of images. A few of the images were recognizable as being from the bunker they had visited with Natasha. The rest were other buildings and hidey-holes none of them had ever seen.

"So what?" Maria said dismissively. "Is this proof of something? These are empty buildings, just like they've said."

"They're Red Rooms," Morse corrected. "You've heard that term," she continued, turning to Clint and then Steve and Tony. "Agent Romanoff told you what they're for. What they've done. Didn't she?"

"What's a Red Room?" Maria asked, curious and anxious all at once; another something she'd been left out of no doubt.

Clint couldn't move. He couldn't speak. While everyone around him was stumped by the knowledge that Agent Morse had this information, Clint couldn't get past the larger picture. That if she knew something that was supposed to only be confined to a few, other parts of SHIELD knew as well. That Barney had said SHIELD was moving against them and maybe that hadn't been a complete lie. That Maria had said factions on the inside were trying to oust Director Fury and his supporters using any means necessary.

This was the perfect setup; two for the price of one. They could trigger her and kill him in one stroke. And even if they didn't succeed in full, he was already out of SHIELD and Natasha would never be trusted again. Not after this.

They were all looking at him now and waiting.

"How do you know this?" Clint finally asked.

"I worked Counter Intelligence, Barton," she answered. "It was my job to know everything about everyone inside of SHIELD and out."

"What is this?" Maria asked, because she still didn't know. "Is this about the triggers? Is this how it was done? Why didn't I know about it?"

"Above your security level," Morse answered flatly, not bothering to even glance her way as she'd said it.

"All of CI knows?" Clint pressed, and Tony fixed him with a look as if he might understand where the other man was headed.

"Enough."

"Who?"

"She took you three to a Red Room," Morse said, ignoring Clint's last question. "What did she tell you there? What did she show you? Are you in on this?"

"In on what?" asked Steve.

Morse shook her head, evidentially deciding that she wasn't going to get into it after all. "Listen," she said after a moment's silence, "I left that division after what they did to you. I asked for this transfer because I could see the writing on the wall. I want to help. I am here to help, but I need your cooperation."

"No," Clint said flatly.

"Do you want her back alive?" she asked, not budging and not bothering to wait for the answer she knew was coming. "I'm your best chance. There are other division out there already looking. If we don't get there first they will kill her."

"Get where?" Tony asked. "We don't... If we knew where to go, we'd be there."

"This location," Morse continued, ignoring Tony and pointing at the map; at the bunker in Belarus. "It's empty. They've already checked. They've been there and she wasn't at it. But she's in one these rooms. If they triggered her, she's going to need a reset and instinct will take her only so far. She'd need some kind of subliminal push."

"And you think I know what that is?" Clint asked dumbfounded. It was one thing to assume he and Natasha were close, but this...

"I know you do," she answered. "Even if you don't, I do. Why did she go to Maine?"

"It was a safe house. That's how those work," he snapped back at her.

"A safe house you knew about," she continued. "She attacked you, Barton. She went to a place you knew about. Now tell me, where is she?"

"I don't know!"

"You do," she yelled back at him. "Think about it. Tell me where she told you. Where did she confess? What room were you at when she told you the truth? Where was it, Barton? We don't have time for this. They are going from one location to the next, as we speak, and they will take her down. Now talk."

Clint's eyes went back to the map and he knew Morse was right, but for the wrong reasons. It wasn't about the place being important to her because of Clint, it was because of Phil. The safe house had been set up by him. Phil had been the one in the picture. And, despite all the things Morse seemed to know, she didn't know that Natasha had told Phil and Clint together. In the same room. At the same time.

"Buenos Aires."

"You're certain?"

"That's where she told me," he said, his face having gone blank.

"Then that's where we need to be," she said with a determined nod.


	4. iv. Respect

"Let's go," Tony said, motioning for Bruce and Rhodey to follow once they'd entered the hallway. "Pepper, he's all yours," he continued, still in motion, just turning and walking backwards as he pointed back to Clint's hospital room. "Don't let him try and follow us. We'll be in touch."

Pepper and Darcy both stood and nodded in near unison, watching as the group rounded the corner and moved out of sight.

"We'll need to file a false flight path," Morse was saying to Maria, at the head of the group as they moved through the halls. "Put in we're going to Belarus. They'll expect that."

"Who are they exactly?" Bruce asked.

"CI is tracking Romanoff," Maria answered. And then, off of his confused look added, "Counter Intelligence."

"Okay," he said uneasily, "but... I don't think I should go with you."

"What?" Tony said coming to a halt.

"Stark, we've got to go," Morse called back to him, not stopping.

"I'll catch up," he said, motioning for Steve and Maria to keep going; Rhodey stayed by his side regardless. "What's the problem?" he asked Bruce.

"This whole thing, it's too close. It's too personal," Bruce said, looking more at his feet than at his friend. "Just, call it intuition, but it's not a good idea to get the other guy too close to Tasha right now. I don't know how he'd react. He... he likes Clint. Tasha, not as much."

"You think you should stay then?" Tony asked and Bruce nodded immediately. "Well, you know better than I do about the other guy."

"Can I get that in writing?" Bruce asked with a faint laugh.

"Absolutely not," Tony smiled. "Plus, Pepper could use some back-up. Clint, too. We'll call as soon as we have her."

"Just... just get her back."

"We will," Tony promised, tapping Rhodey on the shoulder and moving on at a hastened pace, leaving Bruce behind. "How about it, Rhodey?" he asked. "Want to take your suit for another spin? I've made upgrades and we're down a few men and could use some help."

"You brought my suit?" he asked, surprised but pleased.

"Yeah, of course I did."

"Then let's do this."

While Tony and Jim were off gathering their suits, the other three were busy prepping for take-off. Morse was handling the controls and pre-flight checklist, while Maria and Steve stood in the back, securing the minimal cargo they'd be taking and running quickly through the itinerary.

Mostly, they were avoiding talking to one another.

Or at least Maria was avoiding talking to Steve.

"It wasn't like I was trying to keep you in the dark," he said quietly, careful not to be overheard by Agent Morse in the front of the jet.

"It doesn't matter," Maria responded in an equally hushed tone, her back still to his.

"It does matter."

"Not now."

"When?" he asked, leaning in closer. His voice a low whisper. "When can we talk? I don't want this to drag out between us."

Maria sighed and turned, finally facing him and almost wishing she hadn't. Steve was either a much better actor than anyone gave him credit for or he was really upset over the situation. Not that this whole thing wasn't a mess, but he actually seemed concerned about her feelings. 

That was new for her and would require getting used to. For most of her life even Maria hadn't been concerned about her feelings.

"I'm mad because I'm behind everyone else," Maria admitted. "I hate that. I'm tired of being out of step, trying to catch this thing and failing."

"We're all struggling."

"Not like this," she said, standing toe-to-toe with him as they continued their exchange in whispers. "I understand why you didn't tell me about Romanoff. I was angry, yes, but I understand. There's no way you could have guessed this would happen."

"We should have been prepared."

"But you weren't and it's fine. It happens. Barton's going to make it and we're going to bring Romanoff in," she said with complete certainty. "It's everything else that's getting to me. I thought I had my whole life worked out and it's just slipping away. Everything I've worked for is disintegrating around me and I can't stop it."

"Maria..."

"Uh-hem," Morse said, catching them by surprise from the front of the jet. "I'm ready when you are."

Maria took a step backwards, only then realizing that Steve had been holding her lightly at her shoulders. He'd let go as soon as she'd moved and looked away; looked at Morse and gave her a nod.

That was new, too.

"We're waiting on Stark," Maria finally said, looking out towards the hanger and wishing she knew how to lessen the awkwardness in the space.

"While we're waiting," Morse said, seemingly at ease, "we should decide which of us is staying."

"Pardon?" Maria asked.

"We shouldn't both go," Morse pushed. "One of us should be here at the Helicarrier to deflect attention and answer any questions that might pop up."

"Fine," Maria said. "Have fun with that."

"If I stay, who flies the Quinjet?" Morse asked, tipping her head to the side as if puzzled.

She wasn't puzzled, Maria thought. She was conniving.

She was also right; Maria couldn't fly and Morse knew it.

"What about Director Fury?" Steve asked with the evident wish of still keeping Maria on the mission.

"He's left," Morse answered. "About an hour ago. Council summoned him."

"Why?" asked Maria, also wondering why she hadn't been told.

"He's had two rogue agents in under a year," Morse said flatly. "That's not good."

"Fine," Maria said, turning and biting her tongue to keep from saying more as she left. 

Steve tried to catch her attention, but she wasn't having it. She didn't want to hear that he was sorry. As she got to the door she ran into Tony and Jim, heading inside.

"What's happening now?" Tony asked, but she just kept walking. 

Tony stopped and stared until the door slammed shut behind Maria before he continued on and into the jet with Rhodey and their equipment.

"What was that about?" he asked Steve.

"We need an agent here," Morse answered, moving back into the pilot's seat. "Hill volunteered."

"Is that so?" Tony said conversationally, his eyes on Steve.

Steve shook his head and moved to help Jim stow the suits, unwilling to say anything on the matter.

As they prepared to leave, Maria used the time it took her to walk back to Barton's hospital room to cool off and calm down. Pepper, Darcy and Bruce were all already inside, and Maria knew that either Jamison or Tam were going to try and run them out for being over capacity but she didn't care. Maria could still pull rank on the two of them if needed.

At least she hoped she could.

"Agent Hill," Pepper said as soon as she'd opened the door. "I thought you'd left."

"Change of plans."

Clint met her eye briefly and shrugged, having a good guess as to what had happened. Maria was down enough to appreciate the commiseration on his part. It was one thing to be unable to do something, like go on a mission, it was another to be told you weren't needed at all.

And Maria wasn't heartless; this whole thing was a train wreck for Barton and Romanoff. She didn't envy it and she'd have never wished it on them either.

An hour of near silence followed. Pepper didn't know what to say. Bruce seemed happy not to have to talk. Clint was mostly present, but when the automated IV kicked in every so often to administer another dose of pain medication with a beep, he got a far off and foggy look to him that prohibited much of his conversation. Darcy was too tired to do anything. And Maria... Maria was still angry and sullen and trying to get the better of those feelings.

"This is stupid," Clint finally sighed, looking around the room with heavy-lidded eyes. "Go back to work or to the Tower or something," he urged them. "Nothing's happening here except they may be by soon to help me to the bathroom."

"We're not leaving, Clint," Bruce said flatly.

"Not until we get word at least," Pepper amended.

"Well, hell," he said. "At least go back and get dressed or something. Get some food. I can't eat but you all can. You don't have to stay right here," Clint urged, hating the feeling that he was somehow keeping them in place. "Darcy's in her pjs, poor kid. At least let her get properly dressed. I'm fine and obviously not going anywhere."

"Kid?" Darcy questioned, one eyebrow shooting up dangerously.

"Yeah, you're like twelve or something."

"God you're such a grouch when you're hopped up on drugs. Didn't they give you the good stuff?" she fired back at him, relieved to see him laugh.

"Okay," Bruce said, laughing a little bit himself as he got to his feet, "I'll take Darcy back to the Tower with me. I could use a little distance. But just for an hour. Want us to bring you anything back?"

"Left a book in the kitchen," Clint answered with shrug, as if it didn't matter either way.

"I'll pick it up," Bruce promised.

"I'll arrange a car," Maria said, joining him at the door. "Got a few reports to file. I'll come check back with you soon."

"You win," Darcy said, dragging herself out of her chair with and exaggerated smile. "Happy?"

"Thrilled," Clint threw back at her sarcastically, earning a real smile in return.

Maria walked out with the two of them, ensuring they did have transportation before heading into her own office, and was back at Barton's door in under twenty minutes.

To her surprise, he was alone.

"How'd you shake Potts?" Maria asked, sitting down in the now empty seat to Barton's left and opening up her notebook.

"I asked for juice."

"Simple and effective."

"Like me?" he asked, eyebrow raised and almost smiling.

"They really did give you something strong," Maria laughed. They had to have done if Barton was joking with her.

"I hate this feeling," he sighed, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus on Maria. "Why'd you come back?"

"Because," she answered, "even if you are trying to run us all off, I know better. I know how you are about medical, Barton. Everyone knows that."

"Thought I wasn't your problem anymore."

"You can owe me one," she said with a nod.

"Thanks," he returned, waiting a minute before going on. "Tony didn't kick you off the jet, did he?"

"No," she smiled, because she had no choice. Sometimes you had to smile when you really wanted to scream.

"Morse?"

"She's something else," Maria said with a shake of her head, confirming it for him.

"She is," Clint agreed with a muted laugh. "But honestly, I don't care what she is if she gets Tasha back."

"They will."

They lapsed into an easy silence as Clint took a short nap and Maria caught up on her email. Pepper returned and seeing Clint asleep got to work on her own laptop. Nurse Jamison checked up on them a few times, asking if there was anything they needed or wanted, receiving only negatives in reply.

It was almost peaceful until Barton began to moan in pain with his eyes still firmly shut.

Maria caught Pepper's eye; Pepper was clearly concerned.

"When is the last time this thing went off?" Pepper asked, tapping the IV pole that held up his medication.

"Might have been while I was out," Maria answered. She hadn't heard it beep since they'd all been in the room, just before Barton had shooed everyone away. "It's been awhile."

"I'll call the nurse."

"Maybe it's clogged," Maria suggested, getting on her feet and stretching. As she did, she looked down at Barton and froze. "He's bleeding," she stated, moving quickly to lift up the blanket that was soaked through with blood. "He's not clotting or he tore a stitch," Maria continued, hesitating to do more without a doctor or nurse present. "He's bleeding a lot."

Pepper had already pressed the call button but one look confirmed to her that that would not be enough. She got up and rushed towards the door, ready to drag back the first person in scrubs she saw, but it was unnecessary.

"Everything all right?" Nurse Jamison asked, arriving at the door as Pepper pushed it open.

"He needs help," Maria snapped. As she did Clint's breathing changed and he let out a groan of agony, his eyes shut tightly as his forehead grew damp with perspiration and he balled his hands into tight fists.

"Stand clear," Jamison said, moving in and taking Maria's place. She checked his IV first and then dropped the bed down so that Clint was resting flat on his back. Pressing the intercom button overhead, she turned to it and said, "Internal Triage. Respond."

Jamison moved quick, placing an oxygen mask over Clint's face and moving his arm carefully aside to get a better look at his wound. Maria was standing just close enough to see that the stitches were weeping blood at an alarming rate.

That's when the monitors began to go off.

"Agent Hill," the nurse said, without taking her eyes off of her patient. "Please escort Ms. Potts from the room."

Maria didn't question it. Pepper looked shaken and if Maria was being honest, she too was unnerved by the scene. Gently she pulled the other woman out into the hall with her, just as several doctors and nurses arrived to take their place inside the room.

"I don't understand," Pepper said disbelievingly. "He was fine. He was doing fine."

"He wasn't clotting," Maria said. "He may have been bleeding internally for --"

"Code Blue," rang out over the intercom in Jamison's voice. "Respond."

Neither woman could.


	5. v. Compassion

They landed without incident about a quarter of a mile from their destination on the roof of an abandoned building on the outskirts of the main part of the city.

"This might be conspicuous," Tony admitted, taking a look at his own suit, Rhodey's War Machine, Steve's gear and inexplicably Morse's own get-up. "Are you coming with us?"

"Of course I am," Morse answered, throwing him a look as she pulled on her gloves and slapped on a pair of tactical glasses. She looked very professional, like she was ready for a fight, as she double checked her side arms and additional weaponry. "Plus, I just got off the line with the local outfit. Something's going on, but we're clear to go."

"Are you sure contacting SHIELD was the right move?" Jim asked, not completely filled in on all the details, but guessing enough to understand that they were trying to keep Agent Romanoff's location under wraps.

"We're already here," Morse shrugged. "They'll know we landed. What are they going to do to stop us?"

"Okay," Steve said, giving her a half-worried glance that Tony knew had nothing to do with her gender or that this might be a set-up. He didn't like unknowns and Morse was certainly that. "You two take the sky," he continued. "Morse and I will go in from the ground."

"See you around," Tony said as the Iron Man mask slipped over his face and he and Jim took off.

"Let's go," Morse said moving out ahead of Steve.

The first block was quiet and the streets were completely empty. 

It felt wrong.

"Captain," Rhodey said over the comm. "You've got trouble around the next corner. Get ready."

As they broke into a run, Steve taking over the lead, they heard the familiar sound of Stark Tech at work. 

It was a literal warzone.

"That's our building," Morse said as they took cover behind a nearby car.

"Is this SHIELD?"

"No."

Steve hazarded a quick look. The men were all spread out, but didn't appear to have any kind of cohesive uniform. They looked like hired mercenaries. And there was a lot of them.

"Did you know they'd be here?" he asked over the din of the fight.

"I didn't know we'd be here," she answered, almost giving him a smile. "Local outfit said there were problems but they hadn't elaborated."

"When you two are done chatting," Tony said over the comm, "there's still plenty of bad guys left whose asses need to be kicked."

"You've done this before?" Steve asked, pausing one last time to be certain. He knew plenty of women fought and fought well, but he liked to see proof of ability before he took anyone into a fight.

Morse rolled her eyes and drew her gun, answering him with two targets hit and neat roll to the next cover point towards their ultimate destination.

"She's fine, Cap," Jim laughed, landing nearby and offering additional cover fire for a moment. "Go."

The fight was fast and ultimately futile for the opposing force. They had them with numbers, but between Tony and Jim's superior firepower and Steve and Morse's steady march forward, they'd never stood a chance. It only got tricky once they entered the building and the mercs had more cover and better places to hide.

"Where's the room?" Tony asked Morse as the four of them crowded into the foyer.

"I don't know," Morse admitted. "Probably the basement," she conceded, "but it's possibly on one of the higher floors."

"So... here," Tony said helpfully.

"I'll keep a watch outside," Rhodey said, heading back out the door. "Call me in if you need me."

"I'll take the top floors," Tony said, checking the stairwell and blasting up and away before either Steve or Morse could respond.

"You've got this?" Steve asked, they could both hear movement a few rooms away.

"Not a problem," she said with a nod, holstering her weapon and drawing out two short batons in its place. The snap they extended an additional foot and sparked at the end.

"I'll clear the basement and then be right back," Steve said, nodding towards the entrance just across the landing.

"See you later," she said, rushing off in the opposite direction and immediately drawing fire from unseen foes.

Steve took advantage of the distraction and pushed through the basement door and down an old metal flight of stairs. To his surprise, there was fighting already taking place at the far end of the room. Men were pinned down, stuck to their cover, all around the room and paying him no mind; all of them focusing their attention on the single red door at the far end of the room that was swung open and evidentially terrifying.

It was soon unmistakable why.

One of the men adjusted, just so, and was immediately fired upon and hit. As soon as the echo from the shot faded, he heard Natasha shout something in Russian at the men.

The words were half-laughed and half-deranged.

Worried, Steve pressed forward and inadvertently drew the men's attention from the door to himself.

Taking cover, Steve deflected several shots with his shield before winging it at the nearest two, knocking them unconscious so that he could move forward to their position. He repeated the process several times, and with Natasha's willing or unwilling help, the room was nearly taken.

After the last shot was fired Steve hesitated before standing out in the open, uncertain of his reception.

"Tasha," he called. "I'm here to help you."

Nothing.

"I'm going to stand up now so you can see I'm a friend," he said, taking a deep breath and preparing himself for the worse. "Okay? On three. One. Two. Three."

Steve stood and as he'd feared she immediately opened fire on him. Deflecting the shots, Steve rolled to the side and out of range, taking cover a few yards from the door.

"Put the gun away, please," he urged, really wishing that maybe Tony had taken this one. He'd known Natasha the longest, aside from Clint. Maybe she just didn't recognize Steve.

Then it occurred to him that that was quite possibly true.

Pulling back his cowl, Steve took another deep breath and prepared to try again.

"You need help, Tasha," he said, keeping his voice calm. "We're here to help you. I'm here to help you."

Pausing, he rushed towards the wall and began to edge his way slowly towards the door, gun still drawn and shield in hand.

"I'm here to take you home."

"I don't have a home," he heard her say softly.

"You do, Tasha," he sighed, happy to hear her voice even if it sounded broken and weak and wrong. "You have a home and friends. You have a different life now. Try and remember them."

"I don't know you. You're like these men. They tried to take me but I won't be held. I won't."

"You do know me, Natasha. I'm your friend. I swear it. I promise you, I'm not here to take you somewhere you don't want to be."

Natasha spat a curse at him in Russian.

"Try and remember," he urged. "You work for SHIELD now. You wanted to work for them. And you are an Avenger. You wanted that, too. And I know you can fight this, Tasha. You are strong and you can beat this. I know it."

"You're wrong."

"Do you remember New York, Tasha? After all the fighting on the Helicarrier you were the only one of us who wasn't down. You were the only one of us who wouldn't let it defeat you. No one had to put you together then. There was a fight left to be had and you were going to be there for it, with or without the rest of us if you had to."

"Quitting wasn't an option."

"For you it wasn't. I recall everyone else needing a push. We all needed reminding of what's worth fighting for. Of why we fight. And that's okay, Tasha. It's okay to need reminding. It's okay to need help."

She didn't answer him again and he knew what he had to do.

Holstering the gun and slinging the shield onto his back Steve rounded the last corner and stood in the doorway. Natasha was there to greet him, gun leveled at his face looking pale and shaken.

"Put the gun down," he said, arms raised in surrender. "Please."

She stared at him for the longest time, longer than he thought possible, before finally she let out a strangled sob and dropped the gun. Natasha sunk into the nearby bed and covered her face with her arms in distress.

"What did I do?" she asked, her whole body racked with sobs. "Steve, what did I do?"

"It's going to be okay," he assured her, sitting by her side and putting his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her in close to his side and rocked with her, trying to calm her down.

It was something he never thought he'd see and certainly something he never wanted to see again.

"What do you remember?" he asked as gently as he could.

"That I was in danger," she said softly, looking at her hands and refusing to meet his eyes. "I thought... I felt like he was going to kill me. That he was somehow keeping me," she spat out the last part as if she couldn't understand how it would be possible. "That he had hurt me and... and I had to get away. I had to kill him to get away. I still feel it in my head. In my thoughts. But, he'd never do that. Clint would never... I don't know why I thought he would."

Natasha finally met his eyes and the plea in them was clear.

She wanted him to tell her, good or bad, if it was true.

"Clint's fine," Steve assured her as soon as he was certain Natasha would hear him.

"I...But I..."

"You did hurt him, but he's fine," he said, knowing she would read any lie that crossed his lips. "We got him to medical and when we left he was up and talking and on his way to being fully recovered, Tasha. In fact, I think he was pretty pissed that we wouldn't let him come along."

Natasha shut her eyes and dipped her chin to her chest and like that Steve could see the emotionless mask she normally wore slip back over her features. She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, stronger than before but still not wholly herself. Not yet.

"It's okay," he whispered and she smiled at him with teary eyes. "We'll work this out. We'll fix this, Tasha. You won't have to do this alone anymore."

She shut her eyes again tightly and the tears that had been in her eyes spilled down her cheeks.

"Captain?" Morse called out on the comm.

"I've got her," he responded, hearing Tony sigh audibly in relief across the open line. "Give us a few minutes and we'll meet you upstairs," Steve finished.

Steve didn't say any more he just waited patiently for Natasha to get to her own feet and lead the way.

While they waited, Morse and Rhodey headed back to the jet to simultaneously call in a clean-up crew and to bring the jet around to pick up the rest of the team. The mercenaries they'd fought had either been defeated or had retreated, so there was really nothing for Tony to do but wait patiently outside.

Patience wasn't really his thing, but he held his ground not wanting to crowd Natasha, just in case.

He assumed if Steve needed help, he'd ask.

As the first of SHIELD's local crew arrived to begin rounding up prisoners, the jet landed neatly in the street, and Steve pushed open the front door and walked out of the building with Natasha at his side.

It was then that Tony began to wish Bruce had come as well because Natasha looked like she could use another friendly face. She only kind-of knew Jim, who knew enough not to hover outside the loading ramp and was giving her plenty of space. And while she did know Morse, there was no love between the two agents. 

But, he had to hand it to him, Steve was doing a great job.

He was talking quietly and leading her forward without being obvious about it. Steve wasn't making a show of his support, he just provided it. Tony was useless in situations that required delicacy or tact. He was self aware enough to know it and purposefully stayed back until Natasha was settled onboard and Steve came out to talk to him again.

"How much does she remember?" Tony asked with concern.

"She knows she attacked him," Steve answered. "I think she tried to fight it. She has been fighting it, whatever it is. These men were here to bring her in but she didn't know them. She fought them," he paused, surveying the scene and letting out a sigh of relief. "I've promised her we'll fix this."

"We will," Tony agreed wholeheartedly.

Steve nodded his approval and moved back into the jet, ready to be back where they belonged and to get things back to normal as soon as possible.

Tony was on his way to joining them when JARVIS interrupted.

_"Ms. Potts is on the line, sir. Should I take a message?"_

"No," Tony said, actually smiling at the idea of having something good to tell her. "Patch her through."

"Tony?" her voice came, loud and clear and beautiful over the internal comms of the suit. Her picture as well. She looked worried, but he knew that was about to end.

"Hey, I've got good news," Tony said in a rush. "We've found Red. Picked her up no problem, well... almost no problem. She wasn't a problem, but there were some very determined people surrounding her. Doesn't matter. She's fine. We're fine. And we'll be home as soon as we can get this bird in the air."

"That's..." she tried to say, but dropped her head and shielded her eyes from him momentarily. "That is good but... Tony, I have something to tell you..."

"What's wrong?"

"There were complications," she finally said, taking a deep breath and pressing on with a determined look on her face. Pepper looked set on saying what needed to be said, but she didn't look happy about it at all. She looked miserable.

"With what? Problems with SHIELD?" Tony asked, wondering if they'd thrown out anyone who wasn't an agent, which was practically everyone, as soon as they'd left. "What kind of complications?"

"With Clint, Tony. There were complications with Clint. The bleeding was worse than they thought. They must have missed something internal because... They were going to take him back into surgery but he arrested. He went into cardiac arrest and... and... Tony, he's gone."

"Gone?"

"He never made it out of the room," she added with a strangled sob, unable to hold back any longer.

"Tony," Jim called, his mask off as he stood at the edge of the ramp. "You ready to go?"

Tony turned and held up a hand, asking quietly for a moment before his eyes found Pepper's on the screen again.

"How are you?" he asked, his mind having gone nearly blank.

"I'm... I'm fine," she said, giving him a nod and pulling herself together. "I'll be fine. Maria is overseeing everything. She's handling... I should help her but I don't know what to do."

"Let her do her job," Tony said, glad for once to say it. "Let her handle things until we get back."

"Okay."

"Yeah," Tony said as he was unable to think of anything else.

"What will you say?" she asked after a moment of silence between them stretched unreasonably thin.

"I'll tell them... I'll tell her," Tony stopped and cleared his throat uncertainly. "Don't worry about it. I'll think of something."

"I'm sorry, Tony."

"For what?"

"To put this on you," she said with a watery grin that was more sad than anything he'd seen from her in quite some time. "I thought it would be better from you than..."

"Easier maybe," he agreed, knowing that Morse shouldn't be the one to break the news. "Not better."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he said. "We'll be home soon."

Pepper smiled again weakly and ended the call.

Delay wasn't going to make this any easier.

Tony headed up the ramp and removed his mask, setting it aside and casting a quick glance around the cargo hold of the jet. Morse was the only one who had noticed his lengthy absence. She met his eyes and he could tell she'd already gotten the word.

Without discussing it, she moved to the pilot's seat and sat down.

Tony was grateful.

It would still be hard to hear, but it had to be easier coming from Tony instead of Morse.

"You all right?" Jim asked, sensing the change in Tony's demeanor.

"No," he admitted, which caught Steve's attention almost at once. "I've got.. We need to talk."

Natasha was already seated so Tony took the spot next to her and cleared his throat, knowing the quickest way to begin was to just begin.

"Pepper called," he started, forcing himself to meet her eyes. Occasionally looking around him for support. Knowing that no one was there to offer any. No one but Morse knew the truth. "She's been with... She's be in medical since she got back from LA, with Clint... and there were problems," he paused. The look on Steve's face changed almost immediately. He lost some color, but not his composure. Natasha hadn't even blinked. "There were complications, after the surgery and some internal bleeding that they tried to stop but..."

Jim got there first, turning away and walking to the far end of the jet as he shook his head.

Comprehension dawned on Steve next. Momentarily he covered his face with his hands, but shook off his own shock and grief. His next move was simple and sincere. He sat down on the other side of Natasha and put and arm around her shoulders.

"I am so sorry, Tasha," Tony finished. 

"You said he was okay," she said flatly, her eyes on the floor unable to look at either Tony or Steve as she tried to process the information.

"I thought he was," Steve said.

"He was," Tony added quietly. "This all happened very fast. They tried but..."

"No."

"Natasha," Steve said gently.

"No," she repeated, louder and stronger than she had before. "No, this isn't... Let's go. Get me back there and I'll show you this... this isn't happening. This isn't real. He's fine. Clint's fine and... and..." 

Jim closed up the rear loading ramp and moved quickly to sit beside Morse in the co-pilot chair. Agent Morse only waited long enough for everyone to be strapped in before taking to the air, eager as the rest of them to get back to the Helicarrier.

Natasha didn't move. She didn't hang her head or cry or do anything but look straight ahead. She was unmovable. Isolated by her continued disbelief; her complete unwillingness to believe that this could be true.

"It can't be real," she muttered to herself, finally dropping her head into her hands and letting out a weary sigh. "He wouldn't leave me."


	6. vi. Empathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter...

Director Fury was waiting when they landed.

With him were two fully armed guards. Agent Hill was waiting in the background, at the door.

Steve was off the jet first, followed quickly by Agent Morse. Jim walked to the end of the loading ramp and held his position. Thankful for small miracles, Natasha had remained in place beside Tony, who was neither eager nor ready for whatever was to come.

"Captain Rogers," Fury said with a brief nod. "Agent Morse. I understand you located Agent Romanoff."

"Yes, sir," Steve answered, "but I'd suggest we postpone the debrief. She's agreed to go to medical, to psych, to wherever you think she should, but she wants to see him first."

Fury didn't need to be told who the 'him' in question was. With a quick glance back at Maria, who made no response, he eyed the jet before striding towards it like he was on a mission.

"Sir?" Agent Morse called out, moving to follow.

"Stand down, Agent," he barked without slowing down. Rhodey moved out of his way and half a second later Tony walked down the ramp, leaving Fury to speak with Natasha alone.

"What's going on?" Steve asked Maria.

For a second it didn't look like she was going to answer him, and when she finally did, her words were so faint none of them caught what she'd actually said.

"Sorry, what?" Tony asked, moving forward with the rest of them and practically surrounding her.

"Protocol is what's going on," Maria answered, her eyes darting down and then away again. Her inability to look any of them dead in the eyes was unnerving and very unlike the woman they knew. "It's what's already happened. She can't see him."

"Why not?" Steve asked, but Morse had sucked in a breath as if she understood something they had not.

"He's already been cremated."

"What?" Tony snapped. "We haven't even been gone a full day. We just got here. How..."

"Why?" Steve jumped in to ask, as angry and upset as Tony.

"Agents who have no immediate family or whose designated..." Maria began, but she clearly didn't have the energy or willpower to continue. She looked completely fatigued. She looked defeated.

"And that couldn't wait?" asked Tony, livid still that not only had they taken away any chance at closure Natasha might have had, but also his own; Steve's own. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

Maria set her jaw and kept her mouth shut.

Before Tony could really get worked up Director Fury had crept back up on them.

"Mr. Stark," he barked. "Ms. Potts and the rest of your group are waiting in the conference room off of the main deck. Think you can find your way?"

"Where are you taking Agent Romanoff?" Steve asked, noticing how she was now standing between the two armed men that had accompanied Fury, but at least she wasn't shackled.

"For a chat," he said without offering any further explanation. "Agent Morse, care to join us?"

"Yes, sir," she returned with only a hint of uncertainty.

Tony, Steve, Jim and Maria watched as the group moved off towards Director Fury's office.

"This is bullshit," Tony muttered, turning and pushing his way through the opposite door and aware that the other three were now following him. "I'm going to find Pepper and round up the gang and we are getting out of this nuthouse."

"So we're just going to leave Natasha here?" Steve asked, catching him rather quickly and keeping up with his pace.

"I don't know," Tony shrugged, stopping full and looking around as if someone else would step in and answer that question for him. "And why do I have to know? Why do I have to decide?"

"Usually because you demand to," Steve fired back at him. "You can't ask to make all the decisions and then balk when they get too hard."

"Well, what do you suggest we do?"

"Wait to hear Fury's decision."

"And that's it? What if what he decides isn't something we agree with? What if he decides to lock her up or send her off to whatever hellhole prison we both know SHIELD has to have somewhere? Then what, Steve?"

"Then we change his mind," he answered, leaving the rest unsaid.

Tony stared at him for a minute before nodding in agreement. Glad they were on the same page. They wouldn't have stood for SHIELD holding Clint wholly responsible for his actions under Loki's influence and they wouldn't stand for SHIELD holding Natasha wholly responsible for her actions under unknown influences either.

"Yeah," Tony said, continuing to nod and turning a few times on the spot. "That. We'll do that. For now. Where am I going?"

"This way," Maria said stiffly, taking the lead and stopping in front of a conference room door closer to the main deck.

Tony and Jim went in immediately, and Steve could hear Pepper's greeting, but he didn't go in himself. Instead he pulled the door shut and looked at Maria as the two of them stood out in the hallway face-to-face.

"I can't do this right now," she said, turning on her heels and heading down the hallway. "You can be as mad as you want to be at me."

"I'm not mad at you."

"You should be," she said before she pushed open her office door and waited for him to enter.

"What happened?" he asked, shutting the door and folding his arms as she leaned back against her desk and dropped her head with a weary sigh.

"Potts already told Stark," she said as she rubbed her hands against her face. "What else can I say?"

"How about telling me why he was cremated so fast?"

"It's an old bi-law. I tried to delay it but... but it's not unheard of. The last time it happened, I had it addressed because of issues... similar issues... But it still stands. There's never enough time to do everything..." she said, trailing off and looking angry. "Agent Coulson was cremated under the same provision. His emergency contact was Barton. Barton was indisposed when the subject was first broached so... I should have gotten that law changed but I didn't. I couldn't."

"Don't blame yourself."

"Who else is there to blame?" she asked sharply.

"The people behind this are and we're going to find them," Steve said with real conviction. "Whoever it was that set this up, we'll get them. And we'll need your help to do that, Maria."

"It's Hill, Rogers."

"What?" he asked with surprise, taking half a step backwards and worrying he'd unwittingly crossed a line somewhere, but not sure where that could have been. They'd been on a first name basis for some time. He thought... but it didn't seem to matter right now what he'd thought given her reaction now.

"Captain," she said, glancing around the room and looking anxious, "I'm no longer Director Fury's deputy. I'm not even going to be the main liaison for your team. Director Fury asked me to step down, but that doesn't mean I won't be afforded the respect I deserve."

"I'm -- " Steve started to say 'sorry' but cut the word off. "I didn't know."

"No, you wouldn't," Maria returned, meeting his eyes with a new kind of fierce determination. "Things change fast around here."

Steve understood.

Maria wasn't trying to be rude or mean, she wasn't trying to change things between them; she thought they were being monitored.

"I appreciate you taking the time to explain SHIELD procedure to me," he said, trying hard to school his expression. "You said you'd no longer be the main liaison, Agent Hill, is that correct?"

"Yes, I'll be working in tandem with Agent Morse, but she'll be the lead."

"Stark will probably need you to come by the Tower," he said, his eyes darting up and around the room in a quick motion he hoped she understood. "So he can adjust his security programs and measures."

"As soon as I have the time," she answered, tugging on her ear and confirming for him that she didn't think there were cameras, just microphones. "The Avengers are no longer my top priority, but I'm sure I can make some time later in the week after things have settled down here."

"Whatever suits you best, Agent Hill." As he said it, Steve reached over and grabbed her hand in one of his own. If the gesture surprised her, it didn't read across her face. And she didn't pull back. "There's still a lot to be done," he went on as if they were having a normal conversation about work that wasn't being listened in on or possibly recorded. Like he wasn't holding her hand as if making some kind of declaration. "We want this relationship with SHIELD to continue," he added, feeling it was important to say and more important that she understood what he really meant. "Agent Morse seems very capable in the field," Steve added, quickly running out of things to say. That last part actually earned an eye roll along with the faintest hint of a smile. 

"She's very well trained," Maria provided, her eyes doing the emphasizing. 

Steve understood that too. Maria still believed Morse was working both sides. Or, more to the point, that she wasn't on their side.

"Does she know protocol as well as you do?"

"She might need a little more time for that," Maria answered, her voice solid as she reluctantly let her hand fall away from his, but not before giving it a gentle squeeze. It was almost too much. They were becoming too familiar again, and even if part of her felt buoyed by that thought, it was too dangerous to continue where they were now. "I'm being reassigned to the New York office so if needed, I'm sure I'll be able to stop by from time to time for consultations."

"Thank you," he said, turning to leave with great reluctance. "We'd all appreciate that."

"Captain Rogers, I almost forgot. In the interim I've been made Barton's executor," she said before he'd gotten out the door. He noted the slight hitch in her voice at Clint's name, but didn't call attention to it. "If it's too soon, say so, but I'd like to stop by and begin sorting through his items."

"How soon?"

"Tonight."

Steve nodded and wished they could just go now. He'd been fighting back his own emotions for hours and it seemed as if Maria had been doing the same.

To let go would be...

"When we're ready to return, I'll have someone inform you, Agent Hill."

Maria nodded and unable to linger, Steve left.

The room he entered was nearly as somber as the one he'd left. Pepper and Darcy sat together, both with eyes swollen and red. Jim and Tony stood nearby, the latter fidgety with nervous energy. Bruce was off in the corner by himself, his back to the group as he stared out the window.

"How's Agent Hill?" Pepper asked as Steve quietly took a seat.

"Busy," Steve said with a clipped tone. Tony and Pepper both looked at him with surprise and even Bruce's shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice. "She's... she's got a lot to get done," he continued, hoping to tap down the anger in his voice. He wasn't angry with Maria, but it was clear everyone thought he was. Steve was angry at the situation. "When we leave, she'll need to come with us. For official... she's been named executor and will..."

Steve stopped and shut his eyes with a sigh.

He'd never been good at this crap.

It was hard enough dealing with everything they were dealing with; he wasn't sure he could add lying for show on top of that pile.

"When can we leave?" Darcy asked, momentarily deflecting the attention away from Steve.

"When we know what's happened to Natasha," Tony answered.

"She's... She's coming with us?" Darcy asked in return with clear trepidation.

"Is that a problem?" Bruce responded, his back still to the group. There was a definite edge to his voice that didn't bode well.

"She's dangerous."

"We're all dangerous," Steve said so Bruce wouldn't have to.

"Part of the job," Tony added, unable to contradict them. "Think about it."

Darcy looked around the room and knew what he meant.

If she couldn't accept Natasha back into the fold then she'd be asked to leave. It was a tall order and she'd have to give it some serious consideration.

"How about I take Pepper and Darcy back to the Tower, Tony?" Rhodey offered. 

"That's a good idea," Pepper agreed, already on her feet and motioning for Darcy to join her. She'd had enough. Pepper thought she'd crawl out of her skin is she had to stay there much longer. "Call me if you need... anything," she said, kissing Tony.

"Don't wait up," Tony said as they left, leaving the room more solemn than before.

Tony slumped into the chair Pepper had been occupying and shut his own eyes for half a beat.

"Were you there?" he asked, turning his head towards Bruce. "When it happened, were you there?"

"No," Bruce answered after a minute, finally turning around with a book clutched in his hands. "We'd gone out for about an hour... an hour and a half."

"How..." Steve tried to ask, but didn't know how to finish.

"He was fine," Bruce said with a shrug as he took a seat. "Clint was joking... Well, you know how he jokes."

"So his typical grumpy son-of-a-bitch self," Tony said with a fond smile.

"Yeah," Bruce replied with a faint laugh. "Exactly that. He didn't want us all hovering. There was no indication that he was in pain or that anything was really even wrong. He asked for this," he said, sliding the book across the table.

"Watership Down," Tony said as he picked it up and flipped through the book.

"I don't think I've heard of that one," Steve said, mostly to keep talking. They needed to say something because the silence was unbearable.

"It's about rabbits," Tony answered as he happened across Clint's bookmark near the end.

"It's not really about rabbits," Bruce corrected. "It's an allegory. It's more about... " he trailed off, wanting to say 'family' but couldn't just yet. "It's about more."

"Deus ex machina," Tony muttered, reading the title of the chapter Clint had left off on, before shutting the book and setting it down. "We could use a little of that."

"Doesn't happen in the real world," Bruce replied gravely.

"Gentlemen," Director Fury said, opening the door suddenly, catching them all off guard. "Agent Romanoff would like a word."

Fury led the three of them down a series of hallways and through at least two sets of guards before finally ending up in what looked more or less like an interrogation room.

"Take all the time you need," Fury said pointedly before he opened the door and ushered them inside.

Natasha was standing with her back to the door in the far corner of the room and for the first minute made no move to greet or acknowledge their presence.

"I wanted you all to hear this from me," she finally said, her voice starting off soft but having grown stronger with each word passed over her lips. "This is my decision. My call."

"What is?" Steve asked.

"Confinement."

"No," Tony said immediately.

"It's my decision," Natasha returned calmly. "No one is forcing me to do it. No one is threatening me. And, it's for the best. Until I can... Until this is fixed, I need to be locked up. I need to be safe."

"Tasha, this isn't the answer," Steve said shaking his head.

"Someone out there knows what I can do and they know how to make me to do it," she said evenly. "I won't take that risk. Never again."

"What does Fury say?" Tony asked, crossing his arms and just so angry he could hardly think straight.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does," Steve argued.

"He thinks... he thinks I can do this without..."

"Because you can," Steve insisted. "You can, Natasha. What's your plan? To lock yourself up forever?"

"No."

"Then what? Let SHIELD work this out for you?" Tony asked skeptically and rightfully so, in his mind. SHIELD was falling apart, it was being pulled apart, and Tony was certain that whoever was pulling the strings would not hesitate to use or dispose of her, whichever way suited best. "You really going to put all your eggs in that basket? For fuck's sake, Tasha, you know that's a bad idea. That is suicide."

"What options do I have?"

"Come back with us," Tony answered, throwing up his hands as if it was that easy. "We'll work it out from the Tower."

"I can't," she said quietly.

"Between me and Bruce, we'll figure out something," he continued, growing more animated as he spoke. "And I've got contacts. I've got other resources. I can make it safe, I swear it. I know it."

"I can't," she repeated.

"Stop saying that, you can," Tony said sharply.

"I can't go back there," she finally snapped. "You can't expect me to go back... to go where... I can't. I can't."

"Natasha," Steve said after a pause, "this has to be hard for you, I understand, but don't you think he'd --"

"Don't tell me what he'd want," she interrupted. "I'm not changing my mind. This is my call. Now please, leave."

"Tasha," Tony tried one last time.

"Go!"

Steve hung his head and put his hand on the door, hoping they'd get a chance to try again later. Maybe it was just too soon. Probably it was. Tony stood there for a half a second longer before storming out after Steve, pissed off that he'd found a problem without a solution. That he'd not only lost one friend, but two. And Bruce... Bruce didn't budge.

Bruce walked to the door and shut it, remaining in the room with Natasha.

"Please don't," she said quietly, her eyes on the floor as she slowly shook her head from side-to-side.

"I thought it would be me."

Natasha's eyes darted up and found his, confused by his meaning.

"I thought that if something like this was going to happen," Bruce continued, "it would be me, not you. All the focus in the group, it was always directed... We all knew it was possible, but a lot of things are possible, Natasha. Clint never worried about it. It never concerned him."

"He never had to live with it."

"But you do," he said with a sad nod. "And I do. And... And I really thought... I'm sorry."

"Don't..."

"I am sorry, though, because you are living my worst nightmare right now and I may not know exactly what that feels like but... I think I've given it enough thought as to have an idea of it. You're angry and upset. You're probably a little mad at Clint for making you trust him so... so completely. For letting him trust you and bringing down that wall."

Natasha shook her head and turned her back on him, almost unable to stand it.

"Nothing we say or do now is going to bring him back," Bruce continued. "The past is done. It's hard and cold and final. But the future isn't and you owe him. You and I owe the people who love us, more than anything. The people who care for us despite of and because of what we are... we owe them everything. They come into our lives, knowing the risks, and stay. Not because we ask them to, but because they want to."

"And what good did that do him? What can I possibly do for him now? Clint is... Clint is dead because of me," Natasha said, every word a struggle. "I can't undo it. I can't fix it. I can't even look at myself... think about him or..."

"It's going to take time. I know that's what everyone says, but they all say it because it's true."

"I have plenty of time. It won't help."

"Tasha."

"It won't," she snapped.

"Then quit," he fired at her, just as mad as she was. "Drown yourself in it. Wallow. Do whatever you like for now but eventually you have to try."

"No. I can't. I tried for him and..."

"And if you don't try again than you are admitting you're false. You are saying that you are false to Clint and to his memory and to all the love he had for you," Bruce said with utter conviction. "Clint thought he knew who you really were, Natasha. He swore to it and he died still believing he knew you, the real you. Was he wrong? Are you really just a mindless killer or are you more than that? Can you control the thoughts inside of you or will they control you?"

"What if I don't know anymore?" she admitted. Meeting his eyes and worried what the answer might be.

"You won't know until you try."

"I can't promise you anything, Bruce," she said, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I don't know if I have anything left in me to swear by. Right now, I feel so hollow and bare that... but I'll consider it. I can think about it and maybe... but I can't go back to the Tower. That was... for awhile, it was home and I can't go home without him."

"Then we'll work from here."

Natasha nodded and dropped her eyes and Bruce knew they were done. He'd said what he wanted to say and all he could do now was hope he'd gotten through. Bruce knew from experience that not every demon could be vanquished, not every fear could be conquered, but doing nothing accomplished nothing. It was work, and the Natasha he knew was never afraid of work. Not hard work. Not painful work. He knew she could do this if she wanted it.

Bruce hoped she wanted it half as much as they wanted it for her. That Natasha was still the person he thought she was.

"Thank you," she said quietly just as he was almost out the door.

He was certain she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this ended on a down note. I know I made promises and they will be kept. I'm not done with this series yet and expect to post the next fic, in its entirety, on Friday. Thank you for reading and commenting and kudo'ing! Don't kill me. :)


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